


Here I Found / No Self Control

by gearsandgrime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: After practice, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Light Smut, M/M, School, Tender - Freeform, soft, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gearsandgrime/pseuds/gearsandgrime
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi a system they're both okay with: They're friends on the court and in school, but more than that after practice. At least, Oikawa thought he was okay with it. Whether he realized it or not, something was weighing on his mind. If he didn't address it, the problem may end up being more than his heart can handle . . .
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 46





	Here I Found / No Self Control

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I can't remember what I listened to while writing this, but the title is from this song I like: Billy Lemos - Here I Found / No Self Control (feat. Quiet Luke)
> 
> Couldn't think of a proper title, hence the corny song title Title. Yeah.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I really appreciate it, even though it's just a dumb little thing.

There was the matter of rumors.

Oikawa is the captain of one of the best volleyball teams in the district, Oikawa is smart even though he doesn’t look the type, Oikawa has lots of friends. 

He talks to a lot of girls.

He gets confessions almost every week. He has a new girlfriend almost every week.

He’s a heart breaker.

None of them are wrong, but there’s one thing no one talks about. No one has found out. I guess the girls throw everyone off. After all, I try hard to convince myself that I care for their company.

I guess I’m insecure. 

But Iwa hasn’t complained about the secrecy. We talk between classes, we eat together, and after school we go to practice and get to see the other guys.

Then after practice, I lie about cram school to my mother and lie to my girlfriend about what I’m busy with before I completely forget. Usually I’m already entangled in Iwa.

Most every night we do it, after practice. After practice in the supply closet. After practice in the club room. After practice in Iwa’s car. After practice, after practice, after practice.

When we finish, I try to get my hair back to being controlled, then Iwa drives me home. We kiss goodbye. Sometimes a peck if I’m overthinking something, sometimes one that lingers because I can’t let go; I don’t want to let go of him and pretend nothing happened the next day. I know it’s my fault we’re like this---this relationship, or fuck buddy situation, or whatever.

I know.

The next day would come, though, and I’d be content with my life. When you make enough choices with consequences you don’t care for, it quickly becomes quite easy to go into autopilot and stop thinking. My girlfriend and I talk about nothing. School is a good distraction. Volleyball keeps me focused on the competition and nothing else.

This all changed unexpectedly. So suddenly, it caught me off guard. It happened one night after practice. 

One moment, all I felt and thought of was Iwa. My heart was in my stomach, ricocheting through my body. It was sweltering hot. Sweat pasted our foreheads, our chests, our breaths mingling with each other. 

Before I realized what I was doing, he stopped to wipe the tears off my face.

He asked if my body was okay, if it was too much. My heart caught up with my head. It wasn’t the sex. I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was that my heart was breaking. It was mourning over something. The pain was heavy. Suffocating.

“Why am I doing this?” I choked out.

Iwa paused and adjusted himself. “Do you not want to keep doing it?”

I shook my head. “Yes. No.” My voice went momentarily mute, and I fought to get it back. I felt pathetic for a lot of reasons. “I want to be with you, and just you. I only want to look at you the same way you only look at me.” Another spell of weeping overcame me. My hand clamped over my mouth, the tears running into the cracks and mingling with my spit.

Iwa rubbed my leg. He was ginger, a touch so small yet strong and present. I really fell in love with him the more I saw how his gestures reflected his personality. I remember the first time I kissed him, after a game, in front of the entire team. All of them thought it was a weird joke and didn’t really say anything. Except Iwa, who’s as perceptive as I am foolish. 

I couldn’t stop kissing him after that. He’s everything I’m not and everything I love. 

“Why are you afraid?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“You do, Oikawa. I want to know.” He sounded so patient. I didn’t understand it. 

So I dug down as far as I could go. What was terrorizing me? What was worth holding onto for longer at the cost of this? Every box in my heart was unlocked until I found that part of me that explained it. 

I’m prideful.

People at school like to talk about me.

And I’m a coward.

My arm covered my eyes, keeping away the tears that burned in their ducts. “I’m horrible,” I groaned. 

Iwa waited for me to elaborate. It took me a second―my voice had disappeared again, and I knew if I tried to speak right away, it’d come out as a whimper.

Finally, the tightness in my throat dissipated. I drew in a shaking breath. “I didn’t want another reason for people to start rumors about me, you know? Who knows what they’d say―Have you seen another gay couple in the school?”

Our eyes met. I could tell that he was about to cry, but neither of us acknowledged it. Instead, he grabbed hold of me and brought me close. Iwa’s arms encircled me, warm and comforting. He was like all the seasons in one―icily intense, yet gently hopeful like spring. A summer night under stars and lanterns. “Whether anyone has a problem with it or not, I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to be with you, Oikawa,” he said.

Squeezing tighter, I could feel every emotion from him. My legs were crossed around him. My head buried itself in his chest. He smelled like sweat and cologne fading away with the day.

“I love you, Iwa.”

“I love you too, Oikawa. Thank you for telling me everything. I’m happy.”

My head was already shaking. “I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m so sorry. I know I’ve hurt you.” A tear dripped off of my nose, into his uniform. 

He held me tighter. We couldn’t get any closer―our bodies were molded together like puzzle pieces, or broken glass glued back into place. 

For uncountable minutes we stayed like that, not saying anything. My heart was going to burst. It hammed in my chest in a mixture of shame and joy; oil and water.

What kept us from spending the entire night in that supply closet was an alarm on Iwa’s phone buzzing. It was almost midnight.

“Time to go to bed?” I asked, trying to clear up the sniffles and tears for good. Nodding, he unhooked my legs and got up. He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet.

“Let’s go home.”

I was just a bit taller than him, but for the first time I felt smaller. He touched my hand. I felt better.

His car was the only one left. I sunk into the familiar seat, breathing deeply. We drove in silence. It was serene. I don’t know if I ever felt so calm and enamored in my life. I couldn’t stop looking at Iwa, his tan complexion, his disheveled hair, his nose straight as an arrow, his lips with a cupid's bow ready to fire. The streetlamps illuminated every angle on him. I wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to tell the entire world that he was mine.

We pulled up to my house. Usually we lean in for a kiss at the same time. This time, Iwa was over to me like lightning. He kissed me hard, holding the back of my neck, rubbing my cheek using his thumb with a tenderness so warm I felt I could dissolve.

When we broke away, his face still inches away from mine, he said he loved me. I said it at the same time as him. He smiled ―the one that was unrestrained and boyish. 

Yeah, that was another part of him I had loved right away.

“Sleep well,” he whispered.

I hope he slept as comfortably as I did that night. My head hit the pillow, then it was morning. 

Like every day, I met up with him between classes. We talked with our other friends about nothing and ate our lunches too early. Our friends talked about girls and I talked about Iwa. They told funny stories. I had plenty to do with Iwa. The whole time I couldn’t stop pecking kisses on him. I didn’t care. I didn’t care. I didn’t care what anyone was saying.

Iwa looked at me throughout the day, an expression so earnest it drowned out the noise. I love him.

I love him.

“I’m going out with Iwa. I love him.”


End file.
